The Duel
by Psyste
Summary: My interpretation of one of Sansa's favourite tales - the story of the noble Dragonknight Aemon Targaryen and how he defended the honour of his sister, and true love, Naerys against the "evil" Ser Morgil.


_Disclaimer - if you recognise it then GRRM owns it._

The Duel

"Who are you boy? Did you steal the armour from your knight? You'll be dismissed as a squire for behaviour like that."

Morgil burst into laughter, a mocking callous laugh, echoed by the other men who surrounded him in the courtyard of the Keep.

"Ser Morgil, you dishonour me. You know who I am and you know I am no squire."

Morgil raised an eyebrow and crossed his muscular arms. "I assure you boy I have no idea who you are. Oh wait, are you the fabled dwarf knight of Highgarden, Ser Stumpy?"

More laughter

"Or the simpleton boy knight of Barrowton, Ser Stupid?"

His lickspittles laughed even harder. Morgil continued

"Or, judging by your size, could you be the Lady Knight of Lannisport, Ser Slut?" Morgil asked mockingly.

Whilst they laughed and howled, he didn't move or even rise to their provocation. He realised that he assumed all knights behaved as he would when he should have known that this wasn't the case. After all that was why he was here.

"I am Ser Aemon Targaryen the Dragonknight, first of my name and Kingsguard to King Baelor Targaryen, first of his name." He lifted his helm to show all, not that they didn't know already. He was wearing his personal Targaryen armour, all black with a red dragon emblazoned on the breast plate and shield. He had Dark Sister, his Valyrian steel sword, with him too, though it was currently sheathed at his hip.

Morgil put his hands to his cheeks in mock surprise. "My apologies Ser Aemon, I did not recognise you without the white of your Kingsguard armour. Have you misplaced it or has a whore stolen it whilst you slept? I know the ladies of the Stormlands can be tougher than some of you inbreeds can handle."

Aemon maintained his calm. "My business with you is not for the King so my Kingsguard armour would not be appropriate. I come to you to defend the honour of my family."

"But she is the Kings cousin," Morgil quickly shot back, "So surely it is the King's business. But no, I see it is personal for you. But tell me, why does her husband not come here to defend her honour?"

Aemon knew the answer to that. Aegon could not care less about their sister Naerys, his own wife, and was probably too busy sleeping with another mistress to even notice the vile slanders that spread across Westeros casting aspersions against her character and good name.

"My brother demanded to come here to defend the honour of his sisterwife, but she asked that I take his place to ensure their child does not lose his father. He reluctantly gave me permission."

A wicked smile spread across Morgil's face. "Ah yes, the child Daeron. From the rumours I have heard he looks nothing like your brother. They say he is closer in appearance to the High Septon, the idiot Stonemason who cannot read or write. Or was it the court fool that I heard he looks like?"

Aemon had heard enough. "It is you Ser Morgil who has started and spread these rumours. Do not try and blame another for these accusations. I am here to put a stop to them."

Morgil walked slowly and menacingly towards Aemon till he stood less than an arm's length away. He was a colossus of a man and measured nearly a foot taller, despite wearing only his breeches whilst Aemon was fully armoured. Aemon did not know his age but he was at least 10 years older. Morgil's hair was tied back in a slick tail and his beard was as sharp as the blades he wielded in battle. Aemon had to look skywards to look into his cold brown eyes.

Aemon did not yield any ground. He had only recently passed his eightieth nameday and was much smaller in size but he was a knight, a member of the Kingsguard and a Targaryen. He did not fear this man.

Morgil looked down at him and spoke slowly and without a hint of laughter for the first time since he arrived. "They say the boy looks like you. They say your sister wasn't satisfied with one brother so she fucked you too. I say your whore of a sister gave birth to your bastard."

The fire rose through Aemon's body and he was sure his face contorted into that of a Dragon. He could handle abuses thrown at his name – he'd heard pretty much everything when he was a squire – but when it came to Naerys it was different. She was such a beautiful soft lady, wasted on that gluttonous fool Aegon who didn't see her beyond a bedmate when the brothels closed and his mistresses were away from court. She had a kind gentle soul and Aemon had been in love with her for as long as he could remember. The day she married Aegon was the worst day of his entire life. He hid at the back of the Sept during the ceremony and cried lonely salt tears. He knew then he would never love another and joined the Kingsguard three years later at the age of seven and ten. It did not matter that he had not had a women and now he never would – the only one he ever wanted belonged to another.

Aemon maintained his calm as he knew getting angry would not help him. "Ser Morgil I challenge you to a duel for the honour of my sister Naerys Targaryen. You have spoken supposed tales of her infidelity. I believe these are lies and falsehoods about her character and her fair nature. May the God's decide who is righteous."

Morgil Sneered "The Gods? More like my steel."

Morgil motioned to his squire, a timid young boy, who immediately ran back towards the keep. Aemon had anticipated that it would come down to a duel and the knight in him was prepared for that. The Targaryen in him was excited by it. The brother in him was desperate for it. The squire soon returned with a large cart containing all Morgil's armour.

As Ser Morgil was armoured by the young squire Aemon addressed the other men that had laughed earlier and now stood around the courtyard waiting for the duel. "This is a duel between two knights, no-one is to interfere on either sides behalf. Should anyone not follow this they will meet my sword."

Aemon unsheathed Dark Sister and showed it to all. It was a spectacular sword to view. The blade looked as delicate as ice yet it glimmered like dragonglass when moved. It was sharp enough to remove a Auroch's head in one swing yet it felt as light as a quill.

See Morgil noticed the sword and raised his voice as his breast plate was being attached. "Your sword will be my prize boy. I'll take it from your corpse and wield it far superior than any of you Dragon inbreeds. In fact I'll use it to cleave your head off so I can send it to your whore sister."

Aemon knew his opponent was trying to anger him, make him lose focus before the fight started. It wasn't working - Aemon was calm and ready. He had a few nerves, as he always did just before combat, but he remembered his fellow Kingsguard Ser Costayne advising him that that was a good sign as "Nerves keep a man alive. The man without nerves is a dead man."

Ser Morgil was finally fully armoured and he walked over to a rack of weapons that adorned the wall behind him, shoving his young squire out of his path. He considered a decorative broadsword and a large morningstar but eventually picked up a warhammer, which drew a few comments of approval from those watching.

"This was the warhammer that I used to slay Ser Dondarrion of Blackhaven when he slept with my favourite serving wench." Ser Morgil boasted as he picked up a mighty shield. "He was a boy just like you, soon you'll be a corpse just like him."

The two men moved to the centre of the courtyard and stopped to face each other. If Aemon thought he was huge before, he seemed to have grown a further foot taller and wider with his armour. His shield was twice the size of Aemon's and it looked thicker than a Keep wall. The warhammer was the biggest Aemon had ever seen forged. He was sure he would struggle to lift it with both hands yet Morgil carried it in one.

"Any final words boy?" Ser Morgil asked before lowering his helm.

"When this duel is over, you will be unable to slander my sister again." Aemon stated firmly before he followed suit and shut his helm.

Morgil immediately swung his warhammer and Aemon only just managed to block it with his shield. It felt like his entire arm was shaking defending the blow and he staggered back. Morgil moved forward and swung further wild attacks, though Aemon avoided these completely with relative ease and moved behind his opponent. He struck with Dark Sister though it only found Morgil's shield and was soon followed by another warhammer strike which Aemon narrowly blocked with his shield.

"He was quick for a giant," Aemon thought, "but he is not controlled and is trying to win with a single blow."

Morgil again pressed forward and took further wild swings, none of which concerned him. Aemon attempted a few thrusts of his sword but could not penetrate the shield. Morgil's large reach was keeping him at bay and prevented any strikes to his body.

Morgil turned a full circle and swung a blow waist height which Aemon again blocked with his shield. Unfortunately the force behind the warhammer cracked the shield through the middle. The follow up strike, a large downwards swing, resulted in its obliteration and it's shards flew everywhere across the courtyard, bouncing off Morgil's armour like rain drops off a glass window. The men watching cheered like the battle was already won.

Aemon retreated and removed his shield strap which hung loosely off his left arm. He was surprisingly relieved that his shield was no more, he was debating removing it anyway. He felt his movement was being inhibited by the shield and he was going to need to fully utilise his speed to get nearer to Morgil.

"Dragonslayer." Ser Morgil shouted beneath his helm so all could hear, "That shall be my nickname after this is done. Ser Morgil the Dragonslayer."

Aemon smiled beneath his helm. Morgil thought he was winning easily and thus would not change strategy. He was playing to the crowd too which would only increase his recklessness. All perfect for what Aemon had in mind.

Morgil charged forward again, swinging the warhammer wildly like he was trying to ward off flies. Aemon dodged and weaved past these attempts and to get close enough to cut Dark Sister across his breastplate. Whilst the sword did cut into the heavy armour, it was too thick for it to pass through completely to flesh. This pattern of attack repeated itself again and then a third time with the same result.

Morgil laughed loudly beneath his helm. "Have you no other attack boy?"

"He's falling into the trap." thought Aemon.

Once again Morgil pushed forward. Aemon bent backwards to avoid a swing aimed at this head and get into striking range. However this time Morgil did not follow with a counter swing as previously but he pushed Aemon backwards to the floor with the head of the warhammer. He then raised the mighty weapon and dropped a huge blow downwards towards the prone Aemon.

It was exactly as Aemon had anticipated. The warhammer crashed into the floor, making a phenomenal booming noise that shook the entire Keep and probably the whole Stormlands. Had Aemon not already moved, the blow would have killed him instantly. But by the time Morgil had raised the warhammer above his head and crashed it downwards, Aemon had rolled to the side and stood back up. When it hit the earth Aemon cut Dark Sister through the small gap in his armour on his right arm at the elbow with a controlled slash. He had noticed this gap when he got close to Morgil and cut his breastplate. He just needed Morgil to straighten his arm so he could exploit this, which is what his downwards blow to the floor had done.

The warhammer remained in the floor when everything from the hand to the forearm attached. Morgil staggered backwards, his arm severed at the elbow. He dropped his shield with the other arm and fell into the dirt. The courtyard was silent in stunned astonishment, apart from the muffled cries coming from within Morgil's helm. One man went to move but soon backed off when Aemon turned to face him.

Morgil wrenched his helmet off using his remaining arm as he rolled in the dirt. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he cried out in agony, grabbing forlornly at the air where his lower arm used to be.

Aemon approached Morgil just as he vomited in the dirt and then rolled through it so it covered his breastplate like an unfortunate house sigil. He could see by the small puddle near his knees that he had pissed his pants as well.

He lowered Dark Sister to the exposed throat of Morgil and he stopped moving instantly. "Pppplllease don't kill me," Morgil whimpered, "I recant all my slanders. I have learned my lesson and I will never insult anyone from House Targaryen again. Please don't kill me Dragonknight."

Aemon raised his helm and stared down at the blubbering fool. He felt no pity for this false knight but Aemon was not a cruel man and he had no desire to drag out this spectacle.

Aemon spoke calmly, never moving the sword from his neck. "I will not kill you Ser Morgil. If I wanted to kill you then it would be done already. Now I have a question that you will answer. And answer it truthfully you will or I will go fetch your warhammer and – well let's say that, unless you already have bastards across the Stormlands, you will never be having any children."

Morgil nodded and stared up into Aemon's lilac eyes, seemingly pleading for mercy.

"Why did you slander my fair sister Naerys?"

Just as Morgil went to speak, Aemon quickly moved Dark Sister to his lips and pierced his tongue with its point as it left his mouth. With a flick of the wrist he ripped the tongue out of Morgil's mouth before he could answer and flung it towards the remains of his arm. Morgil emitted a strange gargling noise, like a cooking pot boiling on a fire, and blood poured out his mouth. He rolled onto his face and clasped his throat with the one hand.

Aemon spoke up for all to hear "Come to think of it, the why does not matter. All that matters is now you are unable to speak such despicable things anymore. And without your arm you will write no ravens of your grotesque lies. I told you before we fought that I would ensure you are unable to slander my sister again, I believe I have accomplished this and so the duel is over. Someone please send for the maester, Ser Morgil requires his attention."

A short man ran into the keep, presumably to fetch the help Morgil needed. Aemon called to the squire, who was stood in apparent awe at what he had witnessed, for a drink of water which he brought quickly.

Aemon drank heartily from the bucket and once quenched, addressed the boy "I don't believe your master will be able to teach you in the ways of knighthood from now on. Not that I believe he would do a good job if he had all his body parts attached judging by what I saw."

The squire nodded solemnly and turned his head to look at Morgil, who was now releasing a muffled cry whilst the maester and his men gathered around him.

Aemon continued "If it pleases you, I would very much like you to accompany me back to Kings Landing. I do hate riding alone and it is a long trip back to the Crownlands. Besides I believe I will be able to find you a new knight to squire for, one who will instruct you far better no doubt."

The squires face lit up like the arrival of summer after a long winter. "Thank you Ser, it would be an honour."

Aemon returned his smile "Excellent. We shall leave immediately. Before we go though, please could you go collect that fine broadsword I noticed on the weapons rack. We are to take a detour on the way home via Blackhaven, House Dondarrion deserve reparations for what happened to their heir and that weapon looks like it is a good start. The news of the fate of Ser Morgil will no doubt be of more value to them."

"Of course Ser." the squire replied. He looked at Aemon curiously. "Did you know Ser Dondarrion?"

Aemon looked at the boy and replied. "No I did not, but the duty of a knight is to enact justice to all men, not just those he knows or those he likes." He thought of his sister, the love of his life. "To be a knight is to sacrifice. Consider this your first lesson."


End file.
